Faded (Rock Star Trilogy)

Europe. This shouldn’t be something you do alone.”
    “Me too,” Stephan agrees. “No way you're going without me.”
    “I'll call my pilot. I am not flying to Europe commercial,” Alec says. Once again, I am reminded how spoiled Alec and I are.
    He gets on his phone, and starts making phone calls.
    “We need to get you a new phone,” Stephan says.
    “What happened to yours?” Bridgett looks at my shattered phone.
    “I got mad, and I kind of threw it at a concrete wall,” I explain. “I hate my dad, and I don't want a new phone.”
    Alec comes back over to us. “You have thirty minutes to pack. We have to be at the airport in one hour.”
    Thirty minutes. I've packed in a lot less.
    Bridgett, however, looks panicked.
    “Don't worry,” I tell her. “I got this. After four years of traveling, I'm a very fast packer.”
    Stephan goes to his house, and Alec, Bridgett, and I go upstairs and pack in a rush.
    As we pack, I grab my iPod and turn up One Direction. I soon find myself dancing to the beat. Seriously, this band always turns my bad mood around. I'm singing along and smiling before the first verse is over.
    This is why I love music. It has the ability to change your mood in a matter of seconds. And who doesn't love a cute boy band — especially a British band.
    My phone vibrates on the bed beside me. I'm scared to look at it, but I do anyway. It's a text from Stephan.
     
    Stephan: Want to join the mile high club? ;)
     
    I can't help but smile. Once again, Stephan knows exactly what to say to cheer me up.
     
    Scarlett: You are my favorite person.
     
    Stephan: Is that a yes?
     
    Scarlett: Hmm …
     
    Stephan: You can't resist my charm forever.
     
    Scarlett: Is that a challenge? If I remember correctly, I am still winning our bet.
     
    Stephan: Bet?
     
    Scarlett: 'You will never see me naked… EVER.' Remember?
     
    Stephan: Oh… :( Would it help if I begged?
     
    Scarlett: Now I'm picturing you on your knees, and I'm definitely ok with this fantasy!
     
    Stephan: I like where this fantasy is headed...
     
    I just laugh and continue packing.
    “Is that Stephan?” Bridgett asks, as she stuffs clothes into her suitcase.
    I nod, smiling.
    “You love him, don't you?”
    “Is it that obvious?” I ask.
    “Yes. It's written all over your face. And his. I see it every time you walk into a room that he's in. Every time you touch each other, or kiss… It's sickening and sweet at the same time. Martin never looked at me like Stephan looks at you. I want to experience that kind of love.”
    I sigh, almost sadly. “I don't know that Stephan loves me. He's never told me.”
    “Sometimes words aren't necessary. But if you love him, you should tell him. Maybe he’s just too scared to say them.”
    She's right. But I still want to hear him tell me first . Maybe I’m too stubborn for my own good.
    “I'm not having sex with him until he tells me.”
    “Does he know that?” she questions.
    I shake my head. “Right, cause I'd tell a guy that… Guys will say anything for sex, Bridge. I want him to tell me because he feels it, not because he wants to fuck me.”
    “Every guy, except Martin.” She sighs sadly. “Am I just not sexually attractive to guys? I mean, why would he go for Mia and not me?”
    “Because he's a fucking moron.” It’s the truth. “Besides, have you not seen the way Alec looks at you? I'm about ready to castrate him.”
    She blushes. “I'm sure he's like that with every girl. He won’t be satisfied until he’s slept with every woman in the US, maybe Europe too.”
    “Not really,” I say. “He's picky. But still, Alec isn't a relationship kind of guy. He is only interested in sex. So don't let him break your heart.”
    “I won't,” she promises.
     
    1:33 PM
    We could totally drive to Europe.
     
    By 1:30, we are all in the private jet, waiting for takeoff. Stephan and Bridgett are both looking around, and they seem pretty excited. Alec and I are both pretty chill, because this is nothing new for us.
    “So, whose jet is this?” Stephan asks.
    “It's one of Scarlett’s record company's jets,” Alec answers. “We often have to fly to get to our performances in time, so our record companies let us use it.”
    I roll my eyes. “Please. Alec owns his own jet.”
    “No, I don't. My dad does,” he clarifies.
    “Your dad has two jets, and he never uses the second one,” I argue. “So it might as well be yours. He lets you take it any time you